


Power

by nachtmahr



Category: Underworld (Movies)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-01-09
Updated: 2012-01-09
Packaged: 2017-10-29 06:44:01
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,190
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/316885
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nachtmahr/pseuds/nachtmahr
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Viktor doesn't like having to remind Kraven who's in charge. Set prior to the first Underworld film (2003).</p>
            </blockquote>





	Power

Kraven paced nervously. Kahn lounged on the edge of a table, watching him, his impassive face concealing his amusement at the other vampire's agitation. He knew that Kraven considered himself the epitome of smooth civility, a courtier of the highest order, a skilled and subtle politician. But every time a crisis confronted him, Kraven fell apart. Each evening, Kahn woke up and was astonished to find that the lucky little boot-licking queer still dominated the coven – at least, when Viktor wasn't awake. Of course, without Soren's unswerving loyalty and skill in battle, Kraven would never have survived so long.

The furious intake of breath that always preceded one of Kraven's extended whinges filled Kahn with annoyance.

"He treats me like dirt. I can't believe he still doesn't show me any respect. I mean, functionally, I've been in charge longer than he has for the last four hundred years. Two centuries asleep, one century awake. Who keeps things going while he's getting his beauty rest?" Kraven looked appealingly at Kahn.

Kahn rolled his eyes inwardly. "You do, sir."

"One of these days, I'm going to leave. I know I can count on some of the coven to follow. That'll teach him to appreciate me."

"You're always so optimistic, Kraven," drawled a familiar voice from the doorway.

The younger vampires looked up, startled, into the ice-blue gaze of their leader. Kahn suppressed a shudder. His own eyes turned that color in extremis, but he always found it unnerving to see Viktor's. The hue may have been bestowed on him genetically a few thousand years ago, but there didn't seem to be anything natural about it.

Viktor turned to Kahn. "My contacts in the military tell me there's a new portable machine gun being developed for the pathetic little war the humans have going right now. I have the feeling you'd find it…intriguing. I want you to look into it."

Kahn bowed. "Yes, my lord." He turned and left the room rapidly, closing the door behind him. He started to walk down the hallway, paused and returned to the door. He turned the skeleton key silently in the lock and pocketed it. Viktor would find him when he was done with Kraven.  
~*~

Viktor spent a long moment staring cruelly at Kraven, watching him try not to tremble. He was so easy to spook, the worm. Such a pretty worm, though.

Kraven's blood pounded in his ears. He twisted one of his ornate rings around his finger, trying to steady his nerves. Abruptly, he craved blood, as he always did when he was nervous. He licked his lips and swallowed.

Viktor relaxed his rigid posture and laughed softly. "Your appetite is insatiable. How long has it been since you ate? Five minutes? Ten?"

"I'm not hungry," Kraven lied.

His master's hand blurred through the air. Pain exploded in his cheek and he clutched it, whimpering as his own blood leaked into his mouth from his slashed lips.

"You're not hungry what, you pile of servile putrescence?" Viktor hissed.

"I'm not hungry, my lord."

His master lifted his hand to one of the flickering lamps, admiring the stained tips. "Your blood is exquisite. Far too good for a creeping toad like you." Viktor licked his fingers one by one, keeping his eyes on Kraven's face. "Put your hand down."

Kraven forced himself to stop holding his aching face.

"Look at me."

He lifted his watering eyes and met his master's gaze.

"Good boy."

Kraven blinked. Tears ran down his face, stinging the closing wounds. Viktor would time his cleaning ritual to end as soon as they healed completely. He'd been through this enough times to know that. He waited as the pain subsided.

When he finished his treat, Viktor strolled leisurely around, picking up objects and putting them down. Since the room belonged to Kahn, it was liberally strewn with weaponry from the past several centuries, all of it kept in pristine condition. Viktor hefted a gleaming axe, turning it to and fro to make its head catch the light. Without warning, he flung it at Kraven's head, grazing his ear.

Kraven didn't have time to see the axe bury itself in the opposing wall. Viktor slammed his face into the table and deftly sliced his clothes in half. He felt the full weight of Viktor's wiry frame on his back as his master leaned over him and licked his ear clean.

"Delicious," said Viktor. It sounded as if he were talking to himself. "The only part of you that isn't riddled with the cankerous diseases of cowardice and stupidity. And that's because I gave it to you. Tell me, what have you done to deserve my beneficence lately?"

"Well, I – " Viktor's hand clamped over his mouth.

"Shut. Up."

Kraven felt Viktor seize his hair and force his face straight down into the table. He felt his clothes peel away from his torso. Hot drops of something hit his back and congealed. Blood or wax, he wasn't sure. He couldn't remember seeing any candles in the room but that didn't mean anything. Viktor carried an obscene number of implements around with him. Some couldn't strictly be called weapons. In Viktor's hands, though, everything was.

Viktor released Kraven's head and ran his fingernails lightly down his back. Kraven arched involuntarily and as he lifted off the table, Viktor thrust into him. Kraven tried to turn his face to cry out but Viktor's hands were instantly on his head, holding it in a vice-like grip.

"You will never watch this. You will never make a sound during it. You will never struggle against me. I have told you this before. You are making me repeat myself, and that displeases me greatly."

Kraven stopped hearing. He stopped seeing. He stopped feeling anything other than the white-hot agony of Viktor's unlubricated cock. It felt like hours passed before it was removed as swiftly as it had entered him and Viktor dropped him abruptly on the table. He lay there while Viktor pulled the bell cord to summon Kahn to unlock the door.

"Put these on." He opened his eyes to see a pair of trousers and a shirt tossed in front of his nose. He rolled weakly over, leaving the shreds of his previous outfit behind, and shakily pulled them on.

"Get out."

Kraven stole a glance at Viktor, standing at the window with his hands behind his back.

"Don't compound your mistakes today by gaping at me, slime. Get out."

Kraven stumbled to the door and barely managed to heave it open before his legs gave out and he crumpled to the floor in the hallway. His collar felt wet. He lifted his fingers to it. When he pulled them away, he realized that while he'd lain there in pain he should have become accustomed to by now, Viktor had drained him.

As Kraven stared at his wet fingers, Kahn moved towards him on silent feet and held out a goblet. Kraven tried to say, "I hate you," but his voice gave out and he could only mouth the words.

"I know," said Kahn. "Eat it anyway."


End file.
